


am i the only one

by 4_Jwj



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: M/M, bc good guy styling is ending me has ended me, its porn, jsut straight up porn, oh nd theyre lawyers, um overstimulation ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4_Jwj/pseuds/4_Jwj
Summary: is this professional misconduct
Relationships: Kim Inseong/Kim Seokwoo | Rowoon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	am i the only one

seokwoo’s case is stronger. he knows it, they both do - it was all in discovery - and it’s only mostly infuriating to see him so obviously pleased with himself. the rest is - his satisfied smile after he presents a strong argument, head tucked down in an attempt to hide it, the confidence in his voice when he rebuts one of inseong’s objections, gaze meeting his head on -

unbelievably fucking attractive, if he’s honest with himself. seokwoo out of court is a puppy, boundlessly energetic and eager to please, hunching himself over to make others feel bigger - and there’s something admirable about that, in their, in his profession - he’s cute, someone to take care of, shower with praise. like this, inseong wants - 

something equally unprofessional but completely different, something he’s not entirely sure seokwoo can give him. he shifts in his seat, tries to focus on the judge, watch for any change in his expression that may indicate an improvement for him rather than the way seokwoo’s shirt clings to his back, suit jacket discarded over the back of his chair. the judge just barely wins out, gives him nothing in exchange for the loss of fabric stretched over seokwoo’s shoulders as he searches for something on his desk, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms, a healing cut just on the outside of his wrist. 

seokwoo’s hands are often sporting tiny wounds that no doubt lead to the thin scars scattered across them. how he gets them is a mystery, one inseong wants to unravel with his fingers and tongue, trace a map he can taste and feel. wants more than anything, more than winning this trial - that admittedly comes dangerously close to malicious prosecution, making him, sitting here still trying his damndest to win, the villain - to see what that might do to seokwoo. if he’d fall apart the way inseong desperately wants him to. 

right now, he looks the farthest thing from falling apart. seokwoo’s physical messiness - his tangled hair, which never manages to stay slicked back an entire day in court, the way his suits are almost always ill-fitting, too short in the legs and arms - is juxtaposed with an almost obsessive personal neatness. it never takes him more than a few seconds to find a relevant document or exhibit in the neat stacks laid out on his desk, his thoughts ordered and clear when he presents them as unimpeachable facts. 

inseong is good, good enough to have won this paper thin suit against almost anyone else, but the hearing is over fairly early, the judge throwing the suit out altogether. he’s secretly pleased, has spent enough time on something that hadn’t deserved it in the first place - seokwoo’s bashful smile as the defendant thanks him no reason at all to be feeling this good after a trial he lost - and it is frustrating, somewhat, to be matched so well by someone at the beginning of their career but - 

it is frustrating, not in the slightest in a professional sense. 

he doesn’t have any more trials today, a pressing reason to get up immediately - there’s no harm in staying here, idling on his phone as seokwoo packs up his things, says his final goodbyes to the defendant and his family. when he’s done, he surprises inseong with a large palm on his shoulder, rubbing gentle circles over his jacket. he leans in before he looks up, enjoys the solidity in seokwoo’s hold. 

“congratulations.” he says. partially because he means it, mostly to see seokwoo flush, lips stretch into a nervous smile. the hand on his shoulder moves lower, squeezes his upper arm.

“thanks. heading home?” inseong nods, moves to get up as seokwoo takes his hand off of him to grab his bag. he makes no sign of intending to give it to him as they leave, slinging it over his shoulder as he walks towards the exit instead. inseong takes a final second to admire the view before catching up, reminding seokwoo of his longer legs.

“you’re getting better.” 

“what - oh, thank you.” it's like a switch has been flipped, the hard edge he had in court melting away the second its over. he wonders if seokwoo knows he’s doing it, turning into something powerful, formidable. provocative, but that might only be to - 

a large hand shakes in front of his eyes, and he turns to look at seokwoo, whose other arm has wrapped around inseong again to steer him away from one of the pillars in front of the courthouse. 

“are you okay? you haven’t been losing sleep over this one right? it was kind of obvious -”

“i’m fine seokwoo, thank you. just have something on my mind.” seokwoo tilts his head, a silent question. looks so endearing like that inseong almost wants to show him exactly what is on his mind. 

“it’s nothing, really. goodnight seokwoo.” he takes his bag from him, makes a conscious effort not to stare at his hands. 

“goodnight inseong.” seokwoo waves to him from the top of the steps before turning back towards the courthouse - and he must know how much inseong likes watching him move in suits that actually fit him, has never shown him his back this much before. seokwoo is always waiting for him, looking back when his eyes land on him. he doesn’t know which he prefers - seokwoo’s wide eyes focused on him in admiration, or the way his broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist. 

(he’s lying to himself if he thinks these two things are in any way comparable, settles for acknowledging neither is appropriate) 

seokwoo thanks him for winning those cases where they both know the defendant is guilty. traditionally, with a bouquet of flowers delivered to his office, a simple note bearing only his name. as if inseong wouldn’t know otherwise, would have possibly received anything similar in all his career until now. 

the first one is stunning, literally has him falling into his chair as he realizes the implications. it had been after a sexual assault case - the defendant had been low income, requested a public defender. he had also been indisputably guilty of forcing three high school girls into sexual intercourse at knifepoint, leaving each with dozens of deep scars, some of which had been so severe as to require blood transfusions.

and seokwoo had done his job. had done an admirable job of masking how much the whole thing revolted him, and presented a respectable defence for a man completely undeserving of it. inseong has never seen anyone look so relieved to lose, the carefully maintained mask crumbling for just that second inseong happened to be looking at him, after the verdict was announced. it was back in a moment as seokwoo shook hands with the defendant, a slight that would have certainly been noticed if it had been omitted.

clutching a bouquet of pink flowers, inseong had finally understood - that seokwoo understood. that they were both necessary, both of them working together. that he didn’t see their relationship as a rivalry, inseong as the enemy. many people did. he had thought seokwoo did as well, although he was never anything but unerringly polite the few times they had spoken. 

seokwoo was unique - the flowers compelled inseong to look at him, but since then he hasn’t found a reason to stop, is now entirely unable to. 

the most passionate cases are the ones that aren’t certain - they both believe, are convinced they’re on the right side of this. its - messy, heated, sometimes downright acrimonious - a tempestuous process of constantly meeting in the middle, blocking each other until the frustration of being stuck is overwhelming. 

they are well matched, is the problem. inseong’s cunning seokwoo makes up for with meticulous research, inexhaustible effort. he wields precedent, process more effectively than anyone inseong has faced before. with enough delays and recessions seokwoo can force the trial to slow down to his pace, see the reason of his arguments through sheer indomitable obstinance. against anyone other than inseong, he understands it’s near wholly effective. 

inseong is just as stubborn as seokwoo, can match him step for step without losing his own presence. sometimes, most of the time the challenge is rewarding. he comes out of it a better lawyer, satisfied with his performance whether or not he wins. 

others, this time it’s maddening. inseong knows he’s right, the defendant is guilty. every second he’s allowed to walk free, every second seokwoo keeps him free, unaccountable - 

seokwoo is just as sure, of course. he won’t let up any more than inseong and as irritating as it is, he has to admire him for it. he doesn’t know if he wants to strangle seokwoo or have seokwoo choke him 

(because these cases, the most involved cases, seokwoo’s impeccable manners crack just enough for him to get really into it, throw away any self-awareness that may have been holding him back and it is a fucking sight to see, seokwoo when he’s angry, righteous) 

but he does respect him, as a colleague. thinks seokwoo feels the same, or their relationship wouldn’t work as well as it does. they can throw everything at each other, time and time again and when it’s over seokwoo will still look at him, wide eyes and full of adoration. professional admiration, most likely, but an undeniable fixation on, worship of him he can’t bring himself to discourage. 

it’s only fair, if he’s this preoccupied with seokwoo, seokwoo should be a little infatuated with him. 

inseong wins. he can tell - it affects seokwoo, like any other case he put his all into this, yet he still claps inseong on the shoulder afterwards, when they’re alone.

“congratulations.” seokwoo almost never stops touching him without being prompted, once he’s started. the hand on his shoulder stays there, fingers resting just under the lapels of his suit jacket. it’s nice, the slight warmth would be nice if wasn’t so much less than what inseong wants, feels like he needs right now. he brings his hand up to rest over seokwoo’s anyway, tells him 

“you did good. i couldn’t tell what it was going to be at the end.” just to watch him tense, try to accept the complement. he doesn’t disappoint, but the way he swallows, wets his lips like he does when he’s nervous, isn’t entirely like the reaction he normally gives. it’s - maybe closer to what inseong is feeling, brings his attention to seokwoo’s full, chapped lips. he wonders what would happen if he bit down hard enough -

“are you done - is this your last case i mean. today” he’s not sure if seokwoo is aware of his gaze on his mouth as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, not sure why he’s suddenly nervous, stumbling over his words like he does whenever he looses his composure. hopes, but has spent so long talking himself out of thinking that seokwoo might want the same things he does. seokwoo’s hand still on him, fingers slipping underneath his jacket to brush against his chest, over his shirt, he’s starting to forget why. 

inseong leans back in chair, hums as he lets seokwoo play with the end of his tie. he’s settled back against the desk, his other arm supporting himself by holding on to the edge as he leans forward. 

“seokwoo, it’s like nine. i think this is the last one for today.” they had gone over for deliberations, had almost had to reconvene tomorrow before the jury came to a snap decision, apparently. seokwoo looks down at his watch, or inseong’s belt - they’re in the same vicinity, and in the present moment he can’t be sure which. he tugs inseong forward by his tie, not applying any real pressure but making a suggestion. inseong takes it, slides his chair forward until his knees are resting between seokwoo’s long legs. 

“i didn’t notice. we should - probably head out, then.” inseong nods, rests his hands on seokwoo’s thighs. enjoys the way just that makes seokwoo swallow. watches the way his throat moves, muscles in jawline tense. is overwhelmed with the urge to get his lips on - everything, the thick column of seokwoo’s throat, the skin under his clothes. he uses the grip on seokwoo’s thighs to push himself up, relishes the way seokwoo’s hand comes up automatically to rest on his lower back, steadying him, bringing them closer together. 

his eyes are blown wide, just from this, just from being close to inseong, and maybe he has wanted exactly what inseong has wanted this whole time, and he wasted months wondering when he could have known. 

kissing seokwoo is - incredible, he thinks he’s in control until the moment their lips touch, the brush of seokwoo’s lips against his rough and somehow so soft at the same time. he melts when seokwoo puts just the slightest bit of pressure on his lower back, traps his hands between them as he opens his mouth, swipes his tongue across his lips. he’d expected some amount of - of gentleness, and it’s there, in the tenderness of seokwoo’s hands - one at his lower back, the other just resting at the nape of his neck - but the kiss is forceful, seokwoo taking what he wants, leaving inseong to keep up. 

the hand at his neck tilts his head so seokwoo can deepen the kiss even further. inseong is barely supporting any of his own weight, clutching at seokwoo’s clothes in an attempt to bring them even closer together. 

when they part and come together again, barely stopping for a second to breathe, the kiss is slower. just as passionate, but more sensual, like seokwoo got carried away and just remembered he wants to savour this. briefly, it makes inseong smile into the kiss, how like him that is. he uses this chance to tease, take seokwoo’s bottom lip between his and bite down. savours the groan it gets him, seokwoo’s hand moving from his lower back to his ass, squeezing. it makes him gasp, seokwoo slotting their lips together again a second later. 

this time is about him, seokwoo picking up on all the things that make his breath hitch, have his hands scrambling at his shirt. kissing him until his breath is coming in gasps, never pulling away long enough to let him brace himself. 

when he finally, finally pulls away they’re both panting, inseong’s eyes still squeezed shut as seokwoo kisses down his neck, breath falling in warm gasps on inseong’s skin. 

“fuck, let’s get out of here.” inseong nods, pulls away from seokwoo only enough to set his feet down on the floor. jesus - his clothes are a mess, inseong somehow managing to undo some of the buttons on his shirt. his lips are swollen - not cracked, not yet - and he looks dazed, a little starstruck. inseong almost can’t believe this is the person who just rendered him senseless - the way seokwoo is looking at him, it was the other way around. he can’t help but grin back, and seokwoo leans in to kiss him gently on the lips, then the forehead before he bends over to pick up his jacket, pushed onto the floor some time ago. it’s a sort of whiplash from a few minutes ago, but not an unpleasant one.

they stop to fix themselves up in the hall, thankfully empty, before calling a cab. seokwoo does up the buttons on his shirt somewhat clumsily with one hand, the other reluctant to leave inseong’s waist. before he touches himself at all he smoothes out inseong’s hair, brushes his thumb against his lips for what seems like no particular reason. 

in the cab, inseong gives his address before pulling seokwoo in, pressing him to his side. he doesn’t intend to do anything drastic, but he doesn’t see a point in keeping a respectable distance when he’s just discovered there’s so much of seokwoo to touch. seokwoo doesn’t seem to mind, still wearing that captivated puppy look he’s already so fond of. 

he’s briefly worried about the state of his apartment, like a high school boy about to have his crush over for the first time, but it’s unwarranted. they don’t bother with the lights at all, seokwoo pressing inseong against the front door almost the instant it closes on them. this time, he means to kiss seokwoo properly, give him a good reason to carry that dazed look on his face. seokwoo cedes control the minute he asks for it, opening his mouth to inseong easily. 

there’s no version of kissing seokwoo that isn’t intoxicating. like this, inseong can explore all the things that make seokwoo shudder, have him sighing against his lips, rolling his hips forward. doesn’t miss the small sigh pressed against his lips when he moves his hands from seokwoo’s hair to his belt, almost eclipsed by the gasp that follows when he presses the heel of his hand into the outline of seokwoo in his slacks - is almost tempted to bring them back, run his fingers through seokwoo’s hair as he chases the friction he wants on his own against inseong’s thigh. 

he does take his hands off seokwoo, after he gets his belt off and thrown somewhere in the hallway. buries his hand in seokwoo’s hair, tugs gently - just enough to pull his head back, make him gasp - when he whines at the loss of contact. the next time their lips meet, seokwoo forces a leg in between inseong’s, pull him forward by a grip on his ass. his hands tighten in seokwoo’s hair as he moans, pushes his hips against seokwoo again without being prompted, desperate for any pleasure, anything more he can get from seokwoo. lips close to his ear, kiss broken off after it became nothing more than panting into each others mouths, sloppy and uncoordinated, he hears seokwoo curse. 

he pulls away then, because he needs to see. seokwoo’s hair, a disheveled mess. the flush on his cheeks, down his neck a solid block of colour. his pants undone, the hard line, head of his cock visible above his underwear. he looks - 

like art, done and undone by inseong’s hands - and he does belong to him, patiently waiting for inseong to tell him what he wants, why he pulled away even though it’s obvious he’s desperate to get his hands back on him, be touching him again. he takes seokwoo’s hands, resting on the door beside his hips and brings him past the living room, into his bedroom. he doesn’t hesitate here either, pulling seokwoo down on top of him, trusting he’ll catch himself. he does, braces himself on one arm, leans down to kiss inseong again like a man hypnotized. 

he lets inseong set the pace this time too, preoccupied with running his other hand down his chest, stopping to undo the buttons of his shirt, his belt. he lets out something dangerously close to a sob when seokwoo finally, finally gets his pants and underwear off, realizing now that he’s free of the constriction how much it hurt. seokwoo rewards him with a thumb circling the head of his cock, his voice in his ear saying 

“i’m sorry, baby, i know.” in a deliciously hoarse whisper. inseong bucks his hips up into seokwoo’s hand, rough and calloused, feeling amazing against him in spite, because of the almost painful scrape as he strokes him dry. something, some noise he makes must sound painful even though he feels so, so good because seokwoo pulls his hand away, asks 

“lube?” it takes him a second to remember, nod his head towards the bedside table. when seokwoo pulls away, letting one hand rest on inseong’s chest as if he can’t bear to stop touching him, stretching his upper body to look inside the drawers, inseong pulls himself up on his elbows, tries to regain some composure. the hand on his chest rubs soothing circles there as he pants, as his breath evens out and he can almost think again. he curls his fingers around seokwoo’s wrist, brings his hand up to his mouth. seokwoo lets him, sitting back on his calves with inseong’s half empty bottle of lube in his other hand. 

the change that comes over seokwoo’s face when inseong sweeps his tongue over his palm, curls it around his fingers is electrifying, the way he surges forward to push inseong back down on the bed makes his cock jump. he leaves his hand in inseong’s mouth, leaves him to take in the rough feeling of calluses, scars against his tongue, enjoy the way three of seokwoo’s thick fingers in his mouth stretch it open. when he wraps his mouth around them, sucks gently seokwoo bucks into him, the chafing of his suit pants against his dick making him cry out, choke against seokwoo’s fingers. 

“shit, fuck, i’m sorry - ” his hand, slick with spit, moves to inseong’s hips to keep him from canting up, chasing more of that feeling. he places a kiss on his chest in apology, moving back when inseong pouts, tells him 

“strip.” a command he obeys immediately, shaking off his shirt, pulling down his pants and underwear as quickly as he can. he looks a little funny, doesn’t seem to mind when inseong laughs at him. presses a smiling kiss to his lips when he’s done, leaning inseong back much more gently this time. 

seokwoo kisses him, slow and sensual and almost painful against his bruised lips - distracts him from the feeling of a slick finger at his entrance, making him gasp when he pushes in. from the smile against his lips, inseong knows he does it on purpose. his mouth falls open, gasps and whines spilling out as seokwoo works him open, rising to desperate keening sounds that almost break into sobs when seokwoo’s fingers find his prostate, stay pressed against it until inseong can’t breathe. 

he teases him for so long, kneeling between his spread legs, kissing down his thighs as his fingers move inside him. he has to beg, moaning out _please_ in between harsh gasps when seokwoo bites down, leaves bruises on the soft skin under his lips before he finally pulls out, lines himself up. 

his hands leave the bedsheets, move to grip seokwoo’s shoulders as he starts a slow, dirty grind. nails digging into seokwoo’s skin, inseong moans out his appreciation. the stretch is unbelievable, seokwoo’s length filling him so well, more than he thought was possible. he’s grateful for the chance to catch his breath, can barely get out the words when he says 

“faster, now, please.” against seokwoo’s skin, shining with a sheen of sweat. he swipes his tongue over the skin of seokwoo’s collarbone, just to taste. finds he likes it, likes the low moan seokwoo lets out even more. moves his hands to get a better grip on seokwoo’s hair, uses it to lift himself up so he can get his mouth on seokwoo’s neck as he speeds up, snaps his hips into inseong in a way that him makes him scream, the bed shake. 

seokwoo pulls away, gets a hand under his thigh to lift one of inseong’s legs over his shoulder - and it burns, feels incredible, this new angle pushing seokwoo somehow deeper inside of him. without seokwoo to hold onto, he fists one hand in the sheets, the other coming up to jerk himself off. it’s been so long, too long since he’s been so hard and untouched, the contact is a relief, a necessity as touches himself to the words of praise falling from seokwoo’s lips. 

through hooded eyes he takes in the sight of seokwoo on top of him, sweat drenched locks of hair falling into his eyes, lips finally split and open in pleasure, dark eyes fixed on inseong. he has to turn his head, look away at that, but seokwoo doesn’t give him the change to run away from what he’s seeing. bends inseong almost in half when he leans over to speak his sweet words into inseong’s skin, pressing them into the spot just behind his ear along with his lips, sucking a comparatively rough mark there. it’s - 

too much, all at once. his hand is trapped between seokwoo’s body again, his cock rubbing against the taunt skin of his stomach. it’s not nearly enough friction, but between that and the brutal pace seokwoo sets, scraping against his prostate every few thrusts, the gentle words he gets out unevenly, in between pants, he comes anyway. has never felt this good, this delirious with it as he throws his head back, paints both his and seokwoo’s chest with come. 

seokwoo slows as he finishes, stills when he’s done. waits for inseong to open his eyes before he starts to pull out - starts, but inseong stops him with a hand on his wrist. his limbs are jelly, his hold isn’t the least bit strong, and seokwoo still responds immediately, leans forward as gently as he can. inseong squeezes his eyes shut, breathes out  
“keeping going, please.” he hears seokwoo exhale, feels him shift inside of him and can’t help the whimper he lets out. 

“are you sure?” 

“yes.” seokwoo lets out another shaky exhale, starts to move again in the same smooth grind from before but quickly looses his rhythm, thrusts growing erratic as he pants into inseong’s neck, mouth open and wet against the skin there. inseong has to cover his mouth with the hand not buried in seokwoo’s hair, alternately stroking and gripping it with the waves of pain, pleasure washing over him. 

seokwoo pulls his hand away from his mouth, reaches blindly until he links their fingers, pushes their joined hands above inseong’s head, against the bed. 

“please, let me hear you.” inseong can’t deny him that, not when he’s been so good, made him feel so good. he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed about the needy, breathless noises he’s making, not with the way the seem to be spurring seokwoo on. somehow, he’s so close to getting hard again, seokwoo’s desperate moans and rough, unsteady thrusts bringing him closer with every second. 

he comes when inseong pulls particularly roughly on his hair, bites down on his shoulder to stifle a scream. thrusts steadily through it until he finishes before pulling out slowly, leaves inseong with a strange empty feeling after the overstimulation. he makes up for it by curling into seokwoo when he falls to his side, unceremoniously dropping half his weight on inseong. he doesn’t mind, tangling their legs together and wrapping an arm around seokwoo’s waist, pulling him in so that their chests are touching. seokwoo presses lazy, open mouthed kisses to inseong’s neck, head still tucked in the crook of his neck. for the next couple of minutes they stay that way, coming down from a shared high. 

seokwoo’s hands are restless, running up and down his sides, pressing into the dark marks forming on his thighs. marks he’s going to have for days, won’t be able to get dressed without remembering - 

how pliant seokwoo is, how eager to please and simultaneously selfish with his own pleasure he’d been. the dizzying ecstasy that had him forgetting everything he’d wanted to do to seokwoo, letting seokwoo take him as he’d pleased. the marks he’d been able to leave on seokwoo, nails scraping along his back. won’t be able to look at the outline of seokwoo’s shoulders in court without thinking about what’s underneath the crisp white fabric of his shirts. 

it’s not enough. it was incredible, literally took the words out of his mouth, only made him want more. fucked out, seokwoo is easy to push around, crawl on top of. he only hums when inseong settles his weight on him, knees framing his hips. gives him a slow smile, rests his hands on inseong’s thighs - and the attention he pays them, with his hands and mouth makes him wonder, but this time he doesn’t have to stop there - and waits. 

he has to lean down, doesn’t trust his strained voice to carry farther than the short distance between his lips and seokwoo’s ear when he kisses along his jawline. whispers into the skin just behind his ear, sucks a mark there to match. he gets his answer in seokwoo’s legs parting under him, his head nodding against the sheets. it’s cute, how eager he is. cute, and brings back all the desires that were pushed from his mind by his overwhelming desire to come. from the look in seokwoo’s eyes, he has all night, all the time after that to act out every one, take his time unraveling the thread of his and seokwoo’s desire.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by sf9 in suits ig also,, 1st and 2nd win congratulations !!


End file.
